Crush Marks and Broken Hearts
by The August's Rain
Summary: Everyone is born with a unique marking on their ankle. This marking represents something about them, varying from anything between interests and personality traits. When they fall in love with someone, their crush's marking appears in a random location on their body. These markings will never disappear, even if they fall out of love with that person.
1. Part One: Chapter One

The children sat in a circle on the playground's wood-chips. The wood-chips were uncomfortable, sticking to the children's pants or poking their legs depending on what they were wearing. The small slivers of what was a tree at some point didn't bother the kids enough to force them to move. They were busy looking at each other's ankles, causing them to completely ignore the uncomfortable sensation sitting on the playground ground gave them. A child in the circle, a boy at the age of six, had his leg stretched as far as he could into the center of the ring.  
He adored the mark on his ankle. It was a black circle with blue waves swirling inside of it. The shade of blue was hard to describe. It reminded him of the actual sea, color constantly shifting between various shades of green and blue. He found the indefinite color to be extremely fascinating and showed it off as often as he could.  
The boy was quite a fan of the attention he received from showing off the small marking as well. He enjoyed hearing the chorus of his classmates squeal over the soothing swirl of colors. The occasional jealous comment pleased him too.  
There were always a couple of kids that groaned or rolled their eyes whenever he mentioned the lovely symbol on his leg. He always ignored them, too proud of his marking to ever think negatively of it.  
However, that boy experienced a different reaction that day. Another boy, one with a face he had never seen before, was attempting to look at the boy's marking from the nearby play-set. The wonder that was visible in his large sparkling eyes quickly shifted to embarrassment the moment his eyes met those of the other boy.  
After his turn ended, the boy stood up. He wandered over to the other boy as fast as his legs would take him. Grabbing onto the railing with a tiny hand, he pulled himself up to the platform the other boy was sitting on. The young male shifted away from the bright-eyed stranger, a nervous blush appearing on his chubby cheeks.  
"Were you looking at my mark?" The boy asked, resting his hands on the ground behind him as he leaned backward.  
The other child was taken aback by how quickly his fellow classmate relaxed.  
"I was." He mumbled after a moment of silent processing.  
The gentle rosy shade of pink on his face darkened.  
"Lance." The boy with the waves on his ankle responded.  
He giggled upon seeing the confusion on his classmate's face. It was a pure, joyful sound that resulted in a small smile tugging at the other's lips.  
"That's my name, silly." Lance grinned, smile missing a few teeth.  
The other boy allowed himself to relax a little, causing a soft smile to overtake his round features, "I'm Hunk."


	2. Part Two: Chapter Two

"Hunk!" Lance nearly dented the wall with the force he slammed the door open with.  
Hunk tensed up, startled by the noise his friend generated.  
"Wh-What's wrong? Are you h-hurt?" He stuttered, still recovering from the commotion.  
"Nothing's wrong, my man!" Lance jogged to the other boy's bed, flopping back onto the soft blankets, "I'm actually amazing right now!"  
He shoved a tan hand into the other boy's face, showing off a small marking on his ring finger. It closely resembled a purple gemstone.  
"Isn't it beautiful?" Lance wiggled his fingers.  
Hunk gently grabbed the other's hand to steady it. Running his thumb over the small mark, a soft smile spread across his face.  
"Who's is this?" He asked, unfamiliar with the marking.  
Lance giggled once more, "Remember Allura?"  
"Elaris?" Hunk raised a curious eyebrow, "Isn't she in fifth grade?"  
"Yep!" A lovestruck expression was visible on the other male as he thought about his first crush.  
Allura Elaris was a girl in the grade above them. She was well known for being especially smart and mature for someone her age. Lance often saw her during morning recess, hanging out with her friends. A majority of the time, they were simply sitting at one of the picnic tables, chatting joyfully.  
Despite seeing it often, Lance couldn't get over Allura's smile that appeared around her friend group. It was radiant and nearly perfect from having braces two years prior. Lance absolutely adored how it brightened not only the people but the area around her as well.  
Relating to her smile, he additionally fell in love with her laugh. When Allura laughed, it wasn't fake or forced. If she found something amusing, she'd genuinely laugh. He found it adorable how her cheeks would flush, how tears would form in her light eyes, how she would occasionally let out a small snort, and how the dark curls she'd always push behind her ear would fall into her face.  
Lance could go on and on reasons he admired her. She just seemed so perfect in his eyes. Allura was successful at almost everything she attempted and whenever she failed, she'd get back up and try again. She was both tenacious and patient, traits most kids in his grade lacked.  
On top of all of that and much more, she was gorgeous. Similar to lance, she had tan skin, dazzling blue eyes, and dark hair. That was where the similarities ended. Allura's hair was thick and consisted of bouncy curls. She often wore it down with a headband to keep most of it away from her face. He face was round and her features were graceful. She had dark eyelashes that nearly brushed her eyebrows and freckles splattered across her cheeks. Lance longed to sit with her and count the sea of tiny birthmarks as they held hands. Allura took great care of her hands. Her nails were always well kept and tended to be painted a soothing shade of either lilac or pastel pink, her favorite colors. She wore those colors daily, yet Lance was still amazed by how she pulled them off as she did. She often wore a light colored sweater paired up with a skirt and maybe even socks if it was especially chilly that day.  
Overall, Allura had completely captured his heart and he definitely wasn't getting it back anytime soon.  
Lance sighed dreamily, causing Hunk's warm smile to grow. While Hunk had yet to experience his first burst of romantic feelings, witnessing Lance gain his first crush mark brought a warm feeling to his chest. Wrapping his arms around Lance's small frame, he pulled him into an embrace.


	3. Part Three: Chapter Three

Lance scrubbed furiously at his neck. He had tried everything. He had used every soap, every kind of washcloth, all types of water temperature, and even attempted using his hands at one point. Lance moved on to toothpaste, despite knowing it wouldn't work. Nothing would work. Removing a crush mark was impossible. Lance hadn't done too much research regarding the subject, yet he still knew there was no way to make it disappear. He had seen people with crush marks from people they had once loved but grown to despise. Those people always attempted to hide those unwelcome marks, hoping to forget about them entirely. It never worked, though. Nobody needed to research to know that.

A sob rose in the eleven-year-old's throat as the suds were rinsed off of his skin. It was still there, the red outline of an amaryllis flower on the left side of his neck. It was the symbol of pure beauty which fit the person it belonged to perfectly.

Lance was fond of the marking ever since he saw it for the first time years ago. However, not once did the thought of having the marking on his body cross his mind. It didn't belong. It didn't belong on him. Someone with a relationship such as the one he had with the owner of the marking shouldn't have had it on his body. It was wrong and felt equally so.

Lance searched through the bathroom's cabinets like a starved animal once again. There had to be something else that would work in there. He paused when his hand met a particular bottle. Pulling it out of the messy storage area, his eyes scanned the label. It was a bottle of nail polish remover. There didn't seem to be many warnings aside from the usual flammable one.

He poured some of the foul-smelling liquid onto a cotton round. Nearly everything else was attempted, this had to work. Lance pressed the pad to his neck, rubbing it over the unwanted marking repeatedly.

The frustration in his mind increased greatly when the marking was still visible on his neck. His skin was tinged pink and stung a bit, but other than that the mark was just as vibrant as the first time he saw it.

The sob trapped in his throat escaped, tears beginning to leak from his azure eyes. He buried his face in his knees as he curled up against the wooden bathroom cabinet. He broke down his internal dams, allowing his worries to exit him in the form of tears. He was unsure about how to cover up the marking. School was starting in a couple of hours, and he couldn't exactly wear a scarf or turtleneck in early September. A bandage might work. However, he would most likely be asked why he had it. A clever lie certainly wasn't going to be appearing in his mind anytime soon.

After ten, long minutes filled mostly with thinking, Lance came to a conclusion. As much as he despised this option, it was his only choice. He had to go to school and hope for the best. Wiping his tears, he slowly stood. He felt as if weights were tied to his legs, each movement requiring far more effort than it should.

The next few hours felt like an eternity to the boy. The anxiety bubbling up in his chest was growing with each passing minute. He didn't even bother doing his usual stress relief or skincare routines. He was well aware that no matter what he did, he would still be paranoid about how the mark's owner would react. After frantically throwing together a clean outfit and splashing cold water onto his tear stained face, the young male was nearly ready to leave. Lance would've left the house without his jacket and on an empty stomach if his mother didn't stop him. He made a mental note to thank her later.

The McClains lived so close to the school; it was hard to believe. Ever since Lance could remember, he would walk to said school with his three siblings. There was no point in driving or taking the bus when they lived that close. Lance usually enjoyed the short journey with his siblings, using that time to chat and play games with them. Today, however, was different. On top of the anxiety plaguing his system, all three of his siblings had a delay that day. Lance, entering the middle school for the very first time, did not. Lance spent the walk to school alone with his thoughts, his beyond unwelcome thoughts.

He arrived at the middle school with trembling legs and watery eyes. His intrusive thoughts were extra brutal that day, causing his desire to disappear skyrocket. He desperately wished to return home, but he couldn't. Both the mark's owner and his mom would catch him before he got to his destination. It was too late to turn back. He was there and there to stay.

Nervously, Lance stumbled to his building's lobby. Numerous papers were taped to the large windows, listing the students in each homeroom. His eyes searched the papers for several moments before finding his name. The lack of familiar names in his homeroom deepened the pit in his stomach. The first bell hadn't gone off, yet Lance knew that day was going to be horrific.

After glancing at his watch, the tan boy concluded that he had plenty of time to spare. The first bell was scheduled to ring at eight fifty-five. The current time on his wrist read seven-ten, exceptionally early. The school sent out an email the previous night regarding what the new sixth graders were supposed to do on their first day. Lance's panic earlier that morning caused the instructions to slip his mind completely. Pulling his navy bag off his shoulder, he searched through the several pockets for his phone. More alarms blared in his head when he noticed his beloved electronic was not with him. His eyes flickered around his surroundings, hoping to find someone that may assist him. However, with his luck being as terrible as it was, nobody was around. Sighing, he slung his backpack over his shoulder once more.

The previous year, Lance had either hung out on one of the school's various playgrounds or relaxed in the cafeteria if it was raining that particular day. A lightbulb flashed in his head, bright light revealing an idea. He set out to the middle school's cafeteria. There was a possibility that the lunch room was the destination he forgot. The journey to the other building was brief and mostly consisted of the male climbing some stairs.

Lance grabbed the handle of the metal door looming before him. He attempted to open the entryway, giving the large handle a powerful pull. Shock swiftly swam across his features when the door didn't budge. He tried the other handle, receiving the same results. A new panic began to settle in him. Maybe that wasn't where he was supposed to be. Maybe he got there too early. The what-ifs didn't have time to pile up, doors swinging open only a little while after his attempts.

Strong arms immediately snaked their way around his thin body, trapping him in a warm embrace. Lance paused his urge to shove and shout when he heard a familiar voice speak softly in his ear.

"Hey Buddy, long time no see." He could practically hear the smile in his friend's words.

"Hey, Hunk..." Lance choked out, failing to ignore the anxiety burning in his chest.


	4. Part Three: Chapter Four

Lance's eyes picked up small details on the boy in front of him. Hunk had certainly changed over the break. His skin had darkened from hours spent outside his summer home. The Garrett family had a close relationship with their neighbors there which resulted in numerous outdoor barbecues. Hunk would often send Lance pictures from them, most photographs consisting of the food made. Those photos would be accompanied by Hunk expressing his joy in the form of a text. Each message brought a smile to Lance's face without fail. Seeing his close friend excited like he was always spread the positive emotion to himself. Lance noticed how Hunk's typical orange headband had been replaced. The ribbon was more vibrant, and the ends had swirling designs stitched into them with gold thread. The bangs pulled away from his face by said headband were noticeably shorter. At the beginning of the summer, Hunk's bangs barely brushed his lower eyelashes. Lance used to play with said bangs all of the time. He often spent lunches weaving tiny braids in the other's hair. The short strands now reached slightly past the center of the ribbon crossing his forehead.

Lance spotted a few additional changes as the two separated from their hug, the most significant being his shift in height. Despite being too early for most males, Hunk was beginning to hit his growth spurt. Judging by Hunk's constant tall height, Lance naturally assumed that Hunk was going to be giant. What he didn't expect was the growth spurt kicking in so soon. Hunk definitely grew several inches over the break while Lance only grew a few. Any day other than that day, Lance would crack numerous tall jokes. However, the young male was in absolutely no mood to do so.

Grabbing Lance's arm, Hunk gently tugged the boy inside and away from the entryway. He didn't wish to be an annoyance to fellow students passing through.

"How've you been, man? You weren't responding to my texts yesterday."

Lance noticed some things that didn't change. Hunk's smile was just as radiant as it was back when they were kids. Although Lance viewed it as impossible, his friend's smile surpassed Allura's. Hunk's smile was beyond contagious, spreading to anyone who so much as glanced at him. He reminded Lance of the sun, bright, warm, and blinding anyone of a majority of their negative feelings while it was present. Unfortunately, the grin lost its magic that day, increasing the ache in Lance's chest instead of diminishing it.

Hunk's body language didn't change either. He appeared relaxed around his close friend, just as he always had.

"I've been fine. I was just busy yesterday." Lance inwardly cringed at his dull choice of words.

There was no way he could tell him what he was truly doing yesterday. It was disgusting, messy, and would never be deemed acceptable.

Hunk's smile faltered at his friend's words. Lance never acted like this. He was always confident and louder than most people. On bad days, he got louder, forcing smiles and jokes often. Throughout the six years that he knew Lance, the only time he would ever get quiet, and space out was on a horrific day. A day where things were unbearable, feelings were overwhelming, and help seemed out of reach. Lance had reached that point only a few times during the end of fifth grade, the upcoming transition to the middle school being the primary cause.

Hunk placed a hand on Lance's shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb supportively. He was awful when it came to confrontations, but this was necessary.

"Be honest with me," Hunk forced his voice to be as soothing as he could manage, "How are you feeling?"

The panic in Lance's chest shot up to his eyes, blurring his vision with newly formed tears. His response to the other boy's question coming out as a choked sob.

Hunk's eyes widened as he cursed under his breath. Wrapping an arm around the smaller boy, he dragged him into the nearby bathroom. He quickly closed the door behind them. Lance was fully crying now, warm tears staining his cheeks for the second time that day. After throwing his bag by the door, Hunk yanked Lance's off of him and dropped it in the somewhat same location. He had the upset male sit on the floor once he realized how terribly his legs were shaking. Hunk flung his arms around his friend as he pulled him into a tight, but not suffocating hug.

Lance buried his face in the other's chest. His mind was screaming at him to stop, to back away and rebuild his walls, yet he couldn't. Hunk had always been the person Lance went to for comfort. If he closed himself off completely, where would he go?

Hunk's fingers found their way into Lance's hair. He stroked the brown strands slowly. He desperately wished to learn about what happened, what caused his closest friend to break down like he was doing. However, he couldn't ask. It was clear to him that the other male was in no state to explain, sobs increasing in volume. Hunk released the hug once Lance's distraught cries turned into frantic breaths. The smaller male's hands instantly shot up to cover his ears, the sound of his own breathing worsening his anxiety. Hunk shoved his own worries back down, opting to place his hands gently on Lance's arms instead of panicking himself. He attempted to make his voice as soft, yet firm and soothing as possible, as he instructed his upset friend to breathe with him.

During Lance's previous attacks, Hunk learned that giving Lance something to breathe with tended to improve things. He remembered the boy explaining that it was tough to start breathing deeply by himself. He mentioned how he'd get distracted by his quickened breathing while trying to slow himself down, causing him to feel worse. He additionally explained how in certain situations, he forgot how to breathe for brief moments. Lance's explanation included a detailed retelling of a moment where he experienced that. That story resulted in Hunk's desire to keep Lance as happy as he could to grow. He hated for Lance to be in that much pain.

Lance's breathing seemed to be slowing until Hunk noticed something. A pink splotch was peeking out from the other's white hood. The unusual color and signs of old scratches rose a flag in Hunk's mind. The blotchy area of skin was something he had never seen Lance have before. He had to be hurt. No other explanation would appear in his head. His hands flew to the other's hood. His heart nearly stopped once he moved the article of clothing. He unconsciously let out a strangled gasp.

"Oh, buddy..." Tears formed in his eyes as he gingerly ran his fingers over the flower marking.

Everything in his mind clicked at once, pieces connecting like a finished jigsaw puzzle. He knew that mark all too well.

Lance's wails got worse along with his shaking. He dug his fingers into his jacket sleeves in an attempt to ground himself. It was happening, the moment he had feared since the previous day. It was the day everyone would see how disgusting he was, the day he'd lose everything.

Hunk was frozen, fingers still resting on the crush mark. His brain was on lockdown. He was unsure how to react, how to fix this situation, and how this would affect the future. He never imagined or even thought about that happening. The boy hoped he'd be able to contain his emotions until Lance was calm, but he couldn't help himself. His feelings felt as if they were a whirlpool. Varying feelings swirled inside of him, bringing a sick feeling to his stomach. Just like confrontations, Hunk was absolutely terrible in situations such as the one he was in. No amount of internet searching could prepare him for that. Sure, he had heard about that type of scenario before. It was quite popular in romance novels and films. However, none of them could properly capture how it honestly felt. They couldn't explain the atmosphere and how it suffocated you. They couldn't explain the feelings, the crushing mix of negative that combined as a searing pain in your chest and fog in your brain. They couldn't explain the proper course of action. In a majority of movies, the protagonist either shoved their friend away or confessed. There usually wasn't a 'Plan C', causing Hunk to panic further.

He could hear Lance beginning to hyperventilate over his own soft crying. He had to do something. He was already enraged with himself for not keeping his composure during such a sensitive moment, but he couldn't allow Lance to worsen because of that.

Wiping his eyes with his hands, he breathed for a moment, hastily shoving himself back together.

He tried calming the boy again once he was stable enough to look at him without tearing up. That attempt wasn't nearly as smooth as the first time, taking nearly twice as much time. It didn't fully work, given how both boys were still shaken by the discovery.

Lance quaked with each uneasy breath. His eyes were teary, but he didn't allow them to slip. He'd done enough crying that morning to last him several months. As much as he was dreading that moment, he couldn't escape the conversation by breaking down.

Hunk awkwardly cleared his throat as he stared at his chubby fingers. His brain continued to lack a consistent feeling for the situation he was in.

"So," He barely spoke a word before Lance interrupted him.

"I can explain." The smaller male choked out.

He lifted a hand to adjust his hood, but as quickly as it rose to his neck, it fell back to his side. There was no point in hiding anything now, especially not when both of them already knew.

Hunk reached for one of Lance's hands and picked it up. He began to gently rub the back of the hand with his thumb, summoning butterflies to the other's stomach. Lance despised how fluttery he felt from the soft touch. It deeply disgusted him. The feelings he harbored were wrong. They shouldn't have existed, but they did and extinguishing them would be challenging.

"Lance..?" Hunk's voice tore Lance from his thoughts.

"Sorry..." He apologized.

The growing concern softened the other male's features, "Are you sure you're ready to talk? I don't want you to feel like you have to."

Lance shook his head, "I'm not ready, but if we don't have this conversation, I won't be able to make it through today."

Hunk nodded. While he didn't think a forced conversation was the best idea, it was certainly better than having his best friend suffer from multiple breakdowns over the course of the day.

"Okay," The smaller boy took a deep breath, pausing for a moment after, "God, I don't know where to start..."


End file.
